To Share in Someone's Grief

A Painful Privilege

Photo by Mari Dicu on Unsplash

When our son John Robert died in May of 2008, grief was a stranger that moved into my heart and never left. In the beginning, this stranger took up such a large part of my thinking that I was barely aware of anything else. Things that used to be simple seemed very difficult. My memory was mush. Unexpected bouts of extreme sadness and sobbing came upon me, sometimes in embarrassing settings. My faith took a major hit. That has now been over fifteen years ago. But still every day, memories John Robert are a part of my life.

When talking to newly bereaved people, those feelings do come back more vividly. Sometimes people will ask me how I got “better”. There’s a little humor and a lot of truth when I tell them it was Jesus, drugs, and support. Though my faith was damaged, I came to new (to me) understandings that gave me hope. When I couldn’t sleep because there was a movie of what happened to John Robert that kept playing in my mind (even though I did not witness it), I needed some pharmaceutical help. I also was helped by a mild anti-depressant for several months. Drugs were my friend.

Support. How blessed we were to be surrounded by support. The church I had just left, the new church we had just become a part of, and many friends reached out to us. Two avenues of support became vital to me. One was The Compassionate Friends, a support group for those who have lost children, grandchildren, and siblings. The local chapter was led by French and Marilyn Smith. We were introduced at supper with Mike and Mignon Riley. From there, we had support from those who knew what we were going through.

“It will always hurt, but it won’t always hurt like it does right now.” Wise words given to me at my first Compassionate Friends meeting.

Another avenue of support was GriefShare. How can we ever repay the personal attention and intentional love received from Royce and Carol Ogle? They led us through our first GriefShare experience. I cried all the way through it. I would not have believed at that point that I would be leading GriefShare groups at some point - but here I am. They supported me through my own struggle and then equipped me to be able to help others. I’m so grateful for the Smiths and Ogles and others who never left our side.

I guess this is on my mind because we are beginning a new season of GriefShare at Forsythe Church this Sunday. We will meet from 3-5 over the next 13 Sunday afternoons. For several years now I have watched as people enter hesitatingly into the room. For those whose grief is fresh and still so painful, there is no pretense. It hurts too much to smile.

We welcome them in and share our grief story, enjoy some refreshments, watch a 30-minute DVD, and talk for a few minutes. Then I dismiss the group and wonder who will come back next week. I remember Carol saying that those who come to GriefShare are very brave individuals because it takes a lot of courage to walk into that room with the kind of burden grief causes us to carry and do it again the next week.

Time doesn’t heal your wounds. What you do with your time is how healing comes.

Four-minute introduction to GriefShare:

If you’re local to Monroe and hurting because of a painful loss, consider participating in GriefShare at Forsythe Church of Christ (link to register at FACOC.org). If you’re not local, take a look at GriefShare.org or The Compassionate Friends, linked in the paragraphs above, and see if there are groups meeting near you. Also, at GriefShare.org there is a free daily email you can sign up for. It is brief, encouraging, related to grief, and comes for a year. Very good.

It is painful to share in someone else’s grief, but it is also a privilege.

Links

John Robert’s story.

Grief Resources.